Chapter Text
If Renjun had been asked just one month ago if he liked being a makeup artist, he would have simply chuckled semi-convincingly in an attempt to hide his pain.
Freelance isn’t for everyone, especially not for deceivingly high-functioning twenty-five year olds who are constantly on the brink of spiraling. No, this wasn’t him being melodramatic, the long periods between gigs were simply starting to give him brain damage.
But before Renjun could fully plummet into a whirlwind of self-doubt and succumb to the pyramid scheme that is a two-week online degree program (Learn to code in two weeks! Job guaranteed!*), his longtime friend did the impossible: he scored Renjun an interview with the biggest idol company in Seoul.
Yangyang had been evasive at first.
“It’s not that I don’t think you’re, like, ridiculously and show-stoppingly talented. It’s just that, you know, there might be dozens of other MUA’s applying for this position?”
But Renjun hadn’t really been into that oddly mature moment of pragmatism from someone who he’d otherwise classify as charmingly off-centered. What does Yangyang know anyway? He’s on the music end of things, he rarely interacts with the production department. “The fact that they scheduled an interview just with my portfolio is a good sign, though," Renjun had countered, clinging to his rare moment of career optimism. "Plus, if I don’t get it, I can still ask for help and feedback.”
Amazingly, Renjun doesn’t get to the point of asking for help and feedback. Because he gets the job offer.
Soon, after a lengthy on-boarding period that includes a somewhat corny but generally helpful orientation, he’s officially a full-time makeup artist. With a contract and everything.
And so far, he likes almost every aspect of his job.
Keyword: almost.
✧
“I kinda wanna go back to doing assistant work.”
“Boy…” Taeyeon levels him with an unimpressed look.
The two MUA’s are waiting for their drinks at the cafe located on the second floor of the company building (Yes, their building had its own coffee shop. Multiple, actually.) and Renjun is belatedly realizing Taeyeon is not the type to blindly validate all his complaints.
“I mean!” He backtracks. “I’m just… as an assistant I didn’t actually work with the talent. I was just doing errands and product tests. There are so many cameras and managers all the time in these backstage rooms. So much movement. It’s just different from what I’m used to.”
“It’s more pressure for sure. But you get used to it. You know they bumped you because they liked your work. Just keep doing what you’re doing. What unit are you assigned to again?”
“Um, NTC.”
“Wait, seriously?”
His answer has Taeyeon’s eyes bulging. It makes him feel as if there’s something more he’s missing.
“Yes…” he trails off, inviting his senior to explain herself with a curious look.
“I’m… surprised.”
“Why?”
They have their drinks now. Renjun doesn’t take the time to appreciate the perfect ratio of soy milk, matcha, and espresso he expects from his favorite barista. Instead, he focuses on the way Taeyeon deliberates on her next sentence, drink already forgotten in his hands.
“They’re moving through MUA’s quick, I guess.”
“Oh yeah?”
Instead of elaborating, Taeyeon checks her phone for the time, scurrying away ahead of him with a lofty goodbye before he gets a chance to unpack her vague response.
He sighs, he hadn’t even gotten to vent about his Main Concern.
✧
“What are you doing?”
The question catches Renjun so off-guard, he almost drops the beauty blender in his hand. He’s not used to making conversation with the idols he works with yet. The full range of his dialogue are things like “Chin up, please” and “Close your eyes, please” and “Turn your head, please.” You know, the usual cosmetologist commands.
This question is dangerously off-script. Renjun stills. “Umm, concealer?”
“More concealer?”
“I mean, I haven’t applied concealer yet.” Renjun bites his tongue. Obviously, he hasn’t gotten to it yet. He started with eyes, then moved to foundation. He’s finishing the base with some concealer. It’s basic shit.
“Dude.” The idol, named Lee Donghyuck, aka his Main Concern, puts his phone down on his lap, craning his neck to study his reflection in the large vanity mirror. “Concealer is first. You’re new, right? Is this your first time working on a shoot, or what? Lights are crazy out there. It’s gonna look terrible.”
He’s shaking his head, clearly annoyed and, in turn, Renjun tries suppressing his own biting response. This is already the third time he’s worked on Donghyuck. He had introduced himself politely twice already. Donghyuck is surely pretending not to remember him. Plus, what the fuck does Lee Donghyuck know about makeup?
“It’s not. You need to trust me.”
“Why? Company keeps sending us people that can’t do their job.”
“That sucks, but I’m not one of those people.”
Donghyuck doesn’t respond. He leans away, making to grab some makeup removing wipes and Renjun has to restrain himself from yelling. “Don’t,” he whisper-yells, becoming increasingly aware that the other two artists sharing his station are throwing wary glances in their direction.
And now, Donghyuck is staring directly up at him, a sharp look of defiance in his dark eyes. “Listen, I’ve had my face for twenty-two years and you’ve had this job for, what, a week? I know what works on my skin.”
“I’m not saying you don’t,” Renjun responds, tone low and leaning in, taking advantage that he’s allowed to stand close to the idol without seeming invasive. He doesn’t bother correcting him on his time at the company, even though a little voice in his head wants to scream IT’S BEEN SIX WEEKS, ASSHOLE. “But your call time is in ten minutes, I don’t have time to start over.”
This is the part that Renjun doesn’t like. Every MUA’s fear is disappointing their client, but every MUA’s biggest pet peeve is when a client thinks they know more than they do.
“This is bullshit.”
The curse makes Renjun wince. He half-expects Donghyuck to storm off. But the idol stays in his chair, arms crossed as Renjun quickly blends out the concealer under his eyes.
His heart is racing and he’s already imagining his contract being terminated later that day. But thankfully his hands remain steady, his application smooth despite the almost palpable waves of resentment emanating from Donghyuck. He murmurs a meek request for him to close his eyes and finishes with a setting spray.
The stylists are on Donghyuck in seconds and Renjun doesn’t wait before dismissing himself.
He’s a bit careless as he begins cleaning up his station, and Renjun doesn’t consider himself athletic. But as soon as Donghyuck gets cleared for filming, he runs.
✧
The highlight of the week is not getting fired.
He does, however, get a new assignment. Which actually kind of feels like getting fired.
“He totally complained to his manager about me and had me, like, blacklisted.”
Beside him, Yangyang has the decency to turn away before blowing smoke from his fruit flavored vape hit. “If he actually did, you would have been fired, dude. I don’t think that happened.”
“Then why was I moved after only a week with NTC?”
Yangyang doesn’t respond right away. Instead he leans back in his reclinable armchair, gazing thoughtfully at the wall decor of his living room. He looks like an old man rocking himself on a worn porch. But he's not old, he's twenty-six and his armchair is ergonomic and expensive and not wooden and rickety. In front of him there’s mainly framed posters and, most notably, one fake Grammy (3D printed by an artist friend) and two–very real–producing awards on a shelf.
“Listen, I’ve worked with Donghyuck since the beginning. These two awards…you know, are linked to him. He’s the real deal. His raw vocals are out of this world. It makes my job so easy. He's talented beyond his years, and has been even before formal training. He can be annoying, but most geniuses are. Don’t take it personal.”
“I don’t think talent gives you reason to treat people like shit, is all.”
“That logic goes out the window in this industry.”
His remark gives Renjun pause. It’s true that his dream since he committed to makeup was working with clients with large platforms. Clients who are artists themselves and have careers that can move people and change lives. He’s always wanted to be a part of something big, in that sense. But he also knows very well how rewarding it can be to work with regular people who are celebrating special moments in their lives. Whether it’s a wedding or a dance recital or a prom, Renjun has always loved the look of awe and joy on his clients when he’s been able to deliver the promise of beauty that matched whatever expectations they had for their special moments.
Since starting at the company, Renjun has spent most of his days trying to build a good reputation for himself among the senior beauty team members. He doesn't come up with looks himself, but follows the direction of his superiors. He’s barely felt gratification these past six weeks. It’s kind of off-putting.
“How do you deal with the criticism? With these demands from people?”
Turning away from the plastic Grammy, Yangyang fixes his gaze on his friend. “You give them nothing to criticize you on.”
✧
The next few weeks at the company are actually quite stable. That or Renjun’s love for winter makes him susceptible to romanticizing his life. He’s been working with the same nine-member girl group for nearly two months and he’s starting to believe he might be permanently with them for a while. Their concepts vary and change often which keeps him on his toes, and he’s made quick friends of the other women that make up their glam team.
“...and one dirty matcha latte, hot, please. With soy.”
It’s Renjun’s turn to grab their coffee this morning. The six MUA’s have a rotation going on and Renjun is happy to oblige if only because it helps him feel like they actually really do like each other.
The interesting thing about becoming more familiar with a flashy, new job is finally being able to appreciate the smaller details. There’s an employee gym that takes up a whole floor. The complimentary lunch is also a pretty good deal. The bathrooms are always clean and the custodial staff are all older men and women who dote on him and call him handsome. Plus, the health insurance and benefits make him feel like a proper adult with a real job. And then of course, is the access to celebrities. He’s never really been a fan of idol music, but he can’t ignore the fact that the talent at this company is some of the best in the industry.
Overall, he’s quite pleased that when his mom had called him earlier in the month to check up on him, he was able to confidently say: “Honestly, mom, I love it.”
Perhaps this is why when he gets an email from management, his guard stays low. He cheerfully replies, agreeing to stop by for a “chat” later in the afternoon.
It isn’t until he’s sat in the bright, yet stuffy office of one of the department directors that Renjun realizes something might actually be up.
Well fuck.
“How are you Renjun? How are you liking it here at MS Entertainment?”
“Umm.” Renjun clears his throat. For some reason he’d forgotten to unwrap his scarf when he took off his coat earlier and it’s beginning to feel rather restrictive. He’s too embarrassed to remove it now, since the director before him, with her sharp bob and poreless face, seems so put-together in comparison. “Well, to be honest, I love it. The creative direction is top-tier and I’ve been learning a lot. And, umm, the team has been receptive to my feedback. Which is great. It feels good to be, you know, listened to.”
“Of course. We do try to keep things open, we recognize we have a lot to learn from our junior staff.”
Renjun nods, going through the email she’d sent earlier in his head. Had he missed something? Was he about to receive terrible news? Should he have prepared a defense?
“I’ve actually heard good things about your ideas,” she comments, complicating Renjun’s internal monologue. “The idol girls also love you and your professionalism. They were nervous at first about having a young man added to makeup, but you’ve been quite respectful. Which I appreciate.”
“T-that’s good. I’m, um, glad.”
“Right, so I actually wanted to discuss an earlier inci– event. See, we are having a hard time filling a vacancy for our NTC team. I see here, that was your first assignment, correct?”
At the indirect mention of the Donghyuck ordeal, a sense of unease slowly begins to close in on Renjun. That was weeks ago, and Renjun was only just now starting to move on from that shitty encounter. All he can do is dumbly nod.
“Cool. I’m going to be straightforward with you. I do prefer this type of communication, so bear with me.” She leans back slightly in her chair, as if to gain a greater view of the young employee before her. Renjun feels like a specimen up for dissection. He shifts in his seat. “Are you at all interested in returning to NTC? You’d be working mainly with Lee Dongyuck, their lead vocalist. I know you’ve worked with him directly in the past and I understand you were a great fit.”
The senior stares, observing his reaction like a hawk and Renjun is ashamed because he’s quite terrible at hiding his gut reactions when things are at this level of absurdity. He winces, a confused noise escaping from his throat. He tries masking the sound with a cough.
“Sorry, I’m confused, Mrs. Min. You would like me to work with Dong–uhh Mr. Lee, again?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know?”
“We will share the update with all relevant personnel, if you agree, yes.”
“I’m–” Breathe. Renjun inhales slowly. If there’s one thing he’s learned recently, it's that he really wants to keep his job. And he doesn’t want to throw it all away just because of one idol-asshole-sized curveball. “I’m happy to work where I’m needed, ma’am. I want to be honest, though. I’m not sure Donghyuck would want me to work with him. He’s… particular and-and I know he’s very talented and so. I just...would want him to trust his team. And I’m not sure he… I’m not sure I can be a fit.”
“That’s interesting because,” she pauses here, and Renjun is led to believe it’s entirely for dramatic effect. “You’re the only beauty team member who didn’t quit from that assignment.”
Pause.
“And,” she continues, “We’ve actually had a handful of makeup artists quit since your time with NTC.”
Renjun can’t help it this time, his jaw drops. Maybe it’s time for some anger management lessons for your idols!
“Oh. Well, I didn’t quit but I was essentially fired. Donghyuck asked–”
“Donghyuck did not request another MUA while you were with him. That move actually came from someone else on the team. Which is why I’m revisiting this. I believe, because neither of you actually asked to be separated, that you’re a good fit. Donghyuck is tolerant of you, he trusts your work.”
“That’s…” (Bullshit!) “...flattering.” If true. He fiddles with his scarf, trying to loosen it from his neck without seeming like he’s about to suffocate. “But… I mean…”
“I understand your hesitation. I hope you're able to consider the big picture, though.” Mrs. Min’s words come fast now, clear. Persuasive. “NTC is our most successful unit currently. Their schedules are filled for the next sixteen months. That’s at least three terms of contract work. That confirms a pay raise, as well. I’m not asking you because you have a good personality, even if I can see that you do. I’m asking because I want to invest in you. This is what I do here, our idols are talented, sure. But so are our creatives. We want to nurture everyone’s talent. I’m sure you got this spiel during your interview process.”
“I did, yes.”
“Entertainment is a group endeavor. It takes a village. But the idols are the face of that village. It’s a lot of pressure.”
“Right.”
“So think about it. And let me know by tomorrow end of day if you’re interested. I’ll have HR send you further information.”
“Okay.”
“Alright. If you have no more questions, have a great evening, Renjun.”
“Okay. I mean, thank you, ma’m. You too.”
“I’ll try.”
It's a brutally honest answer, but it fits with her brutally honest form of conversation. Renjun quickly grabs his coat, bowing twice and scurrying out of her office with enough things on his mind to make his vision go blurry.
✧
The prospect of seeing Lee Donghyuck again fills him with enough dread to disrupt his entire sleep schedule. By the time he pulls up to work, he’s sleep-deprived and grumpy. And not even his favorite fuzzy sweater and long trench coat combo (he gets a lot of compliments on this look, thank you very much) can help him feel better.
They’re at a broadcasting studio today for a variety show, so Renjun has his products with him in a small rolling suitcase. Thankfully, he’s early and he’s able to comfortably set up his station with no interruptions. The other MUA’s are surprised to see him again and Renjun tries adamantly not to read into their apprehensive stares.
When Donghyuck arrives, Renjun’s back is to him. But he can hear him chatting with one of his members and slurping on his morning coffee. Renjun sees his reflection in the mirror and he can’t help the frown of determination that gets etched on his face. This is a fresh start for the two of them, only god knows why he was given a second chance. But he knows now how good this opportunity is. He will do his damned best to make sure he lasts longer than the others.
Without warning, Donghyuck approaches the vanity counter, as if studying the products Renjun had recently laid out. He’s wordless and Renjun considers voicing a greeting, but something tells him Donghyuck wouldn’t appreciate the fake pleasantries. Instead, Renjun lets him finger at the compacts and brushes, moving to stand aside and wait. Donghyuck is technically early, anyways. He won’t rush this.
After a few seconds, Donghyuck turns to him. “My skin gets oily in the winter. It doesn’t make sense, but it happens.”
Renjun blinks. “Well, I can work with that.”
Silence.
“W-what brand do you feel most comfortable with?”
“Fuck if I know.”
He pulls his phone out and falls into the dainty director’s chair they’ve set up for them.
Renjun suddenly realizes something. He begins to think, as he replays the way Donghyuck had carefully studied his arsenal of makeup products, that he does know what brands he likes. He does know what works best on his stubborn skin in the winter. But he isn’t telling Renjun, because he’s testing him.
He narrows his eyes, feeling ready to take on the challenge. If Donghyuck is curious about Renjun’s expertise then Renjun is more than ready this time, to invite him to find out.